


Dean's Competitive Streak

by GreyMichaela



Series: One-Shots [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brownies, Fluff, M/M, No Angst, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt, silly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:31:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3967999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's held the award for the best brownies in the PTA for five years running.  Like hell is he going to relinquish that title, no matter <i>how</i> blue the usurper's eyes are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean's Competitive Streak

Dean didn’t care  _how_ attractive Castiel’s hair was, all mussed like that, or  _how_  blue his eyes were, or  _how_  deep his voice was.  

Dean’s brownies were better, and he was going to win this goddamn PTA bake sale and rub Castiel’s irritatingly gorgeous  _face_  in that fact.

He set his brownies out on the table, fussing over them until his daughter rolled her eyes and tugged on his hand.

“Daddy, come  _on_ ,” she said.

“But if they’re in direct sunlight, it’ll melt the chocolate chips and soften the crumb and it has to be  _perfect_ , Emma!”

“Yes, Daddy,” Emma said impatiently, “but  _bouncy castle_.”  She pointed with one small finger at the huge plastic structure, all bright colors and cheerful flags rippling from the turrets, and Dean sighed and allowed her to drag him in that direction, dodging parents as they went.

“Do you see him?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Nope,” Emma said, but to be fair, her eyes were fixed on the castle and she really wasn’t taking in her surroundings.

Dean accepted her shoes when she shoved them at him and then dove headfirst into the castle with a war whoop.  Dean winced.  God help anyone who was in the way when his daughter had her sights set on something.

He turned and froze at the familiar sight of messy bedhead at the bake sale table.  Castiel was setting out his plate, turning it around and squinting at it to make sure it was displayed to best advantage, and Dean set his jaw and advanced on him.

Castiel’s niece, Claire, spotted him first and her big blue eyes widened.  “Uncle Cas,” she hissed, tugging at his ever-present trench coat.

Castiel looked up and his eyes settled on Dean’s approaching form.  “Hello, Dean,” he said, and that gravelly voice did not shoot straight to Dean’s groin, it absolutely did  _not_.

“Claire, Emma’s in the bouncy castle,” Dean said, not taking his gaze off Castiel. 

Castiel patted Claire’s shoulder.  “Go on.  I’ll see you in a few minutes.”  Claire scampered off and Dean stepped a little closer.  “How are you?” Castiel asked, rearranging his plate yet again.

“Don’t give me that… social niceties crap,” Dean growled.

Castiel’s eyes came up, startled.

“I want a word with you in private, right now,” Dean continued, and Castiel stiffened, clearly wary.  But he went where Dean pointed, to the little office that wasn’t in use at the moment, its occupants out enjoying the festivities.

Dean shut the door behind him and Castiel had him shoved up against it before the other man had a chance to brace himself.  Dean’s shoulder blades hit with a thump and he gasped, hands coming up to catch Castiel’s wrists, and then Castiel’s mouth was on his, finally,  _finally_ , licking inside hot and controlling, and Dean moaned, hips rolling against the thigh that Castiel had shoved between his legs.

When they separated for air, Castiel dragged his thumb across Dean’s swollen lip and smiled.  “Hello, Dean,” he repeated.

“My brownies are better,” Dean said, grinning at him.

Castiel’s lips twitched.  “I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” he said, and kissed him again.


End file.
